Conviction

by Jennifer Blackstream

  The twins shared a look. Then, as one, they turned and left.

  Marilyn let out a disappointed sigh. “You would think being over seven hundred years old would bring a certain amount of maturity. But, alas, it is not so.”

  I stared at Marilyn. “They’re older than you?”

  Marilyn gave me an amused smile. “Yes.”

  I filed that note away as I finished bandaging Liam’s arm. That would explain why she hadn’t been confident her own power could stop both of them amidst the chaos. She wouldn’t want to risk failing in front of witnesses and in her own home. Marilyn wielded enormous personal power and influence, but age mattered greatly when it came to the sidhe.

  I didn’t understand why the twins had risked Marilyn’s ire to cause all that chaos. But one thing was certain. I definitely needed to learn more about them.

  And Morgan.

  And, apparently, Scath.

  “Morgan, that will be all. You can go.”

  Morgan pulled her gloves back on and left, but she gave me one last pained look before she did. Frustration made my skin taut, made me itch with the desire to chase her down, force her to explain what she’d meant when she’d told me to be careful. To make her tell me why she’d manipulated Andy the way she did. Liam hissed as I wrapped the bandage around his arm. Later. I would find Morgan later.

  I gentled my grip on Liam as I continued to bandage the bite. It was still bleeding, and that was a bad sign. Hopefully it would stop by the time I got him to New Moon. I finished the bandage and pulled him toward the door.

  “I need to get him home. But I’ll need to speak with Morgan again soon.”

  Marilyn frowned. “I suppose.”

  Liam put an arm around me as we left the manor. I tried not to think about how badly he must be hurt if he was leaning on me. Or how weak his aura felt. It was hard not to notice the absence of the usual warmth as we made our way to his truck in the bracing autumn air. The coroner’s van was still in the driveway, reminding me I’d need to chase down Kylie and Vincent when they were finished with the new scene.

  Liam stopped me as I started to open the passenger door, pressing his keys into my hand.

  I stared at him. “How hurt are you?”

  “I’m fine. But I feel weak. It’s best if you drive, no point in taking unnecessary risks.”

  Peasblossom reclined against Liam’s neck and tugged his shirt up like a blanket to ward off the chill. A pulse of energy flowed through our link. She was still trying to stabilize Liam, doing her best to help him until his own healing kicked in.

  I got into the driver’s side and started the engine, then leaned over to turn on the seat warmer on Liam’s side and flick on the truck’s heat.

  Liam fell asleep on the way to New Moon. Normally, sleep was good for healing, and I’d have said rest was exactly what he needed. But the fact that whatever Scath had done had taken so much out of him terrified me.

  By the time we reached New Moon, my nerves were shot. I pulled up to the front doors, then threw the truck into park and left it running while I bolted inside like a maniac.

  Sam was working the front desk again, and they shot to attention when I burst through the doors. They dropped something that looked like a pair of ropes tied in an intricate knot to the floor.

  “Liam needs help,” I blurted out, pointing behind me to the truck.

  And just like that, I got to see a pack in action. Sam grabbed a walkie talkie from their belt, barked an order for a medical team to meet them out front. They came to the front door, but didn’t abandon their post, instead looking right at me.

  “What happened?”

  “He was bit by a sidhe with unknown abilities.” I hesitated. “It was Scath, and it was an accident. He’s weak, and he’s not healing right. I’m not sure exactly what’s wrong, but he wanted to come here.”

  Sam nodded, and the medical team they’d called brushed past both of us to the truck. I stood helpless as they opened the passenger door and helped Liam out. Their leader let them take most of his weight as they carried him inside. He gave me a half-smile as he passed. Probably to reassure me. It might have worked.

  If I didn’t notice the blood soaking through his shirt sleeve.

  “Stop!” I cried.

  The two medics paused, but both of them gave me a less than friendly look. I shook off the uneasy feeling that I deserved it and concentrated on calling my magic. I sent a wave of power over Liam, power that would have been silver if my third eye hadn’t been blind. I stepped forward, holding my hands out, trying to concentrate on what it felt like. Maybe…

  There. I couldn’t see the energy, couldn’t identify the spell, but I could feel it sucking at me, drinking the detection magic.

  “What’s wrong?” Liam’s voice was still a low rasp, and his eyelids drooped a little more with each passing minute.

  “There’s some sort of energy leeching away your strength. I think it’s what’s keeping you from healing.”

  I put my hands on his arm, called my magic again. I closed my eyes, centered myself. “Dispello.”

  Liam sucked in a sharp breath, then sagged in the medics’ arms. The one on the right shot me a glare that drove me back a step. “What did you do to him?” he demanded, pulling his patient away from me.

  Sam took a step closer, muscles tensed. Ready to grab me.

  “I banished the magic that was hurting him.” I kept my hands up, avoiding sudden movements. “I need to check him again. It’s a simple detection spell. Please, Sam?”

  After a beat Sam nodded.

  This time, when I used my detection spell, the wound was just a wound. Nothing reached out for my magic to drink it down. My shoulders slumped and I nodded. “It’s fine. The hindering magic is gone. He should heal now.”

  Liam took a bracing breath and struggled to stand. “If that’s all it was, I can come with you.”

  The medics went rigid, sharing a look that said they were giving serious consideration to restraining their alpha for his own good.

  “No, you need to rest,” I told Liam. “I stopped it from getting worse, but you still need to recover from what you already lost. Your pack can help you in ways I can’t.”

  I was afraid he’d argue with me. But he must have felt as bad as he looked, because he just nodded. The medics carried him away quickly, as if worried he’d change his mind.

  Sam watched me with a considering look on their face.

  “Keep me updated?” I asked.

  Again, they just nodded.

  I gestured outside at Liam’s truck. “Keys are in the ignition.”

  “I’ll send someone out.” They turned away without another word.

  If Sam realized that leaving Liam’s truck here meant I didn’t have a ride, they didn’t show it. I wasn’t in the mood to ask for favors, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Sam to start asking difficult questions. I wanted to talk to Scath before I discussed the incident in further detail with anyone else.

  I called for a taxi, then waited by the road. Out here under the gloomy grey sky, it was hard to keep unwanted thoughts at bay. Calling Andy’s cell phone over and over didn’t help either. Not when it kept going straight to voicemail.

  I debated trying to get hold of Silence, but quickly dismissed the idea. If Andy’s phone was off, there was nothing the technomancer could do.

  My legs shook when I got out of the cab and headed into my apartment building. I opened the door and stepped inside. The apartment was starting to smell less like Flint, and more like me. Overcooked potion, coffee, and drying herbs that would be overcooked potions eventually. It should have made me feel better, but somehow I felt worse.

  I didn’t want this place to smell like me. This wasn’t home.

  “He’ll be okay, Shade,” Peasblossom whispered.

  “Andy or Liam?” I asked bitterly.

  “Both. We’ll figure this out.”

  I rubbed my hands over my face. “I need to ta
lk to Kylie and Vincent. I want some sort of physical evidence before I talk to Morgan again.” I dropped my hands and turned to face Peasblossom where she perched on my shoulder.

  “You think she’s involved in framing Andy.”

  I braced my hands on the counter and closed my eyes. “She encouraged him to attack the kelpies. She suggested the auction that was supposed to end with her purchasing a year of service from me. She obviously knows something about Scath that she’s not telling me. And last night she deliberately lured Andy to Marilyn’s, knowing Deacon was there, knowing he was a witness. It’s not a coincidence. But I don’t know enough about Morgan to even begin to figure out what motivation she could possibly have for any of it.”

  “Allow me to help you with that,” said a male voice.

  I turned and bit back a curse as Flint Valencia stepped out of my bedroom. His hazel eyes glittered with an emotion I couldn’t quite place.

  “We need to talk about Morgan.”

  Chapter 11

  “I thought you were in Europe.”

  Flint tilted his head, his gaze flicking over my hands gripping the kitchen counter behind me. It was only a little after two o’ clock, but I’d already had a long day, and the last thing I needed right now was another sidhe.

  “I was. But after your phone call, it was clear to me that I was needed here.”

  “I’m fine, actually.”

  His hazel eyes narrowed, and he circled the kitchen island till he stood close enough that his cologne tickled my nose, its scent soft and understated in the way only the really expensive colognes could be. And underneath it was the scent of Flint himself that called to mind clean bedsheets and bare skin. He was dressed in a black Henley that was open at the neck and blue jeans that clung in all the right places. As usual, he looked like he could have stepped off a movie set.

  “You’re fine. Really.” He nodded toward Peasblossom. “The little one said ‘he’ll be okay.’ And then you asked if she meant Andy or Liam. I’m aware of Andy’s situation, but tell me…” He leaned closer. “What’s happened to the alpha?”

  I opened my mouth and he held up a finger in warning. “Don’t insult me by dancing around the question. And don’t lie to me.”

  Anger pulled my spine upright. I shoved myself away from the counter and jerked open the fridge to grab a can of Coke. “There’s been another murder. Deacon, one of the witnesses to the first murder—and a possible suspect—is dead. Apparently, Siobhan took him to the houseboat at Marilyn’s to keep him out of the way, but someone found him and shot him.”

  “He was shot.” Flint’s stress on the last word made his insinuation clear.

  I closed the fridge door harder than necessary. “Yes.”

  Flint rested one denim-clad hip against the kitchen island. “Agent Bradford shot him.”

  “We don’t know who shot him,” Peasblossom protested. “We’re investigating.”

  Flint didn’t take his eyes off me. “You said you think Morgan’s involved. Explain.”

  I cracked open the can of soda, half-expecting it to explode because that was just the way this day was going. “Apparently, when Siobhan brought Deacon to the houseboat, she shared the details of Raichel’s murder with Morgan. I don’t know if she and Morgan have a pre-existing relationship, or if that’s just the sort of thing that passes for small talk. Or if Siobhan didn’t talk, someone did, but the point is Morgan definitely knew Andy stood accused of Raichel’s murder.”

  “Raichel being the kelpie that was shot at Something Fishy, go on.”

  “According to Morgan, after she heard about the murder, she decided she would ‘help’ Andy. She invited him up to Marilyn’s so he could talk to Deacon without Siobhan hovering.”

  “And she’s a fool if she thinks anyone will believe that,” Peasblossom muttered.

  “You say Deacon was a witness and a possible suspect?”

  There was no point in holding back, since our contract gave him the power to demand answers from me on any topic he chose—unless a different contract said otherwise. So I told him everything I’d learned thus far. How Andy had made a habit of going to Something Fishy, how the kelpies taunted him by bringing teenagers around. When I explained about the jockey, Flint’s jaw tightened. I wasn’t the only one who found that suspicious.

  “I was supposed to meet with Kylie and Vincent today,” I finished. “But now I’m waiting for them to process a second crime scene.”

  “And Agent Bradford was at Marilyn’s when Deacon was shot.”

  “Yes. Because of Morgan.” I took a gulp of soda, wincing as the carbonation burned my nose. “According to her, Andy had a gun on him when he showed up. She made him leave it in the car while they had a late meal.”

  “If she was with him, wouldn’t that make her his alibi? I assume she’s not admitting compliance?”

  “She claims that she spilled wine on her dress and excused herself to change, leaving Andy alone.”

  Flint’s expression clearly said what he thought of that coincidence. “And what does Agent Bradford have to say about it?”

  I squeezed my can of soda, not meeting Flint’s eyes. “I don’t know. His phone is off, and no one’s seen him since last night.”

  Flint considered that for a long moment. “I assume Vincent and Kylie confiscated the gun that was found at the scene of the first murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “So Agent Bradford had another gun?”

  I frowned. That hadn’t struck me as strange before. But now that he mentioned it… “Are you suggesting an unregistered gun was planted on Andy, or that there was a second unregistered gun at one or both of the murders?”

  Flint arched an eyebrow. “No. I’m wondering if you think it’s odd that your friend had not one, but two unregistered weapons. If it were anyone else, wouldn’t you start to think that many unregistered guns suggest criminal intent?”

  “Not necessarily, if the person with the weapons was a human dealing with Otherworld threats,” I contended. “Andy’s been involved in several of my cases, he needs some form of self-defense. His official weapon is a matter of record, he has to account for every bullet. How’s he supposed to explain a bullet that went into a goblin, or a kelpie? He can arm himself under Ohio’s concealed handgun license law, but with any registered gun he would still risk facing questions he can’t answer from local law enforcement.”

  “I suppose,” Flint said slowly.

  “Wait a minute,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “Didn’t you bug his SUV? When we tracked him to Something Fishy the first time?”

  “Ah, yes. Well, it seems our Agent Bradford is a difficult man to fool more than once. He found the tracker—I assume after he had time to wonder how we found him that night. It’s proven…challenging, to replace it.”

  “Blood and bone,” I muttered. “The one time your stalker ways might have proven useful.”

  Flint let that one go. “You still haven’t addressed my original question. How does Osbourne fit into all of this?”

  I took a longer gulp of soda, considering my words carefully. “Liam came with me to Marilyn’s after we heard about the second murder. I asked Marilyn if there was anyone on the property who had experience with firearms.” I met Flint’s eyes. “She confirmed there was. Apparently, Raphael has been her guest for a few weeks now.”

  “Raphael?” Flint’s voice dropped, turning the name into a growl.

  Oh, yeah, he remembered him. “Yes. What do you know about him?”

  “I know he’s old. And he and his sister Luna had a special relationship with the Unseelie Queen for a long time.”

  “Special relationship?” I echoed.

  Flint waved a hand. “Raphael’s gift is to rev people up, speed their heart, flood them with adrenaline. His sister, Luna, can do the opposite.”

  “I’ve felt what they both can do.” I tried to shake off the memory of that warm, oily sensation, the feeling of my muscles going liquid, leaving me helpless. “They�
��re quite the pair.”

  “Yes, they are, and you need to stay away from them. When they work in tandem, their powers are deadly. And that’s if you’re lucky.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Flint shook his head. “Tell me about Osbourne first.”

  Damn. “Liam was there when I tried to question Raphael. During the conversation, his sister joined. One minute she’s telling me I need to relax and calm down. The next I’m half-asleep on Liam’s shoulder, weak as a kitten, and having trouble stringing two words together, let alone a complete thought.”

  “I’d imagine the detective had some thoughts about that?” Flint deadpanned.

  I wasn’t sure if he was referring to me laying on Liam, or my incapacitation, so I didn’t comment. “Liam told her to knock it off, and her brother took that as an invitation to ‘wake me up,’ and—”

  “And Raphael flooded the room with adrenaline,” Flint guessed. He paused, tilted his head. “So Osbourne lost control?”

  “No. He shifted, but he didn’t lose control.” I hesitated. “But Scath did. She attacked Raphael. Liam got between them, and she bit him instead.”

  Flint frowned. “And?”

  “And, he was hurt, so I took him to New Moon.”

  “Because of one bite?”

  I fought the urge to fidget, hiding my anxiety behind another long drink of soda. “One bite, yes.”

  “Shade.” His voice held a warning now.

  I shrugged. “My third eye is still out of commission, so I couldn’t examine the wound very closely. But there was some sort of magic in it that was draining Liam’s strength. I dispelled it, and he’ll be fine.”

  Flint seemed to mull that over. “Why are you anxious to talk to Morgan when it sounds like Raphael and Luna stirred up the trouble, possibly to derail your line of questioning?”

  “I didn’t sense Raphael was lying when said he had no personal reason to kill Deacon, though I suppose someone could have put him up to it. Morgan, on the other hand, has been rallying Andy against the kelpies since they met. And she lured him to Marilyn’s the night Deacon was shot. I just don’t know what her angle is.” I paused. “You said you could help. With Morgan. What did you mean?”